The Young and the Brave
I grew up in a town where being openly gay could get you killed. After I finished high school, spent a few years in the military, and returned to my small hometown for college, two local losers lured a gay man out to the woods, tied him to a tree with wire, and beat him until he was dead. They openly admitted that his sexual orientation was their motivation. I’m sure they thought they would be given a medal or something. Of course, they were easily caught (because they’re stupid) and went to prison. So, in my hometown, 20 some years ago, if you wanted to be out, you had to to be willing to accept that type of risk.
I knew one of the killers from school; he was a year or two behind me, and that just made it all the more creepy. I went to his house once on the way home from school. I remember that his room was really clean and tidy. It was decorated with Star Trek items (from the original series). He had a lot of science-type toys; he seemed smart at the time — I wonder what happened to him. I remember being fascinated with a rock polisher that he had running on his desk. I couldn’t believe how long it took for the rocks to transition from the ugly scraggly stones found on the ground to the shiny, polished rock that you would buy in a Ben Franklin for a dime. If I remember right, it took months for the rock polishing process.
